


Knights of the Road

by Luka



Category: Primeval
Genre: F/F, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:36:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22033423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luka/pseuds/Luka
Summary: Spending Christmas Eve on the M4 wasn’t part of Jenny and Sarah’s plan for their first festive season together.
Relationships: Jenny Lewis/Sarah Page
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Knights of the Road

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rain_sleet_snow](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rain_sleet_snow/gifts).



> This Secret Santa fic is written for Rain_sleet_snow. Her prompts were: traffic jam on the M4; deck the halls with boughs of holly; sharply dressed, and she made for a boss, only a boss, anything else she tellin’ them to get lost. I managed to get one and three into the story! Thanks to Fredbassett for the loan of her Special Forces lads.

Sarah regarded the stationary queue on the motorway with a jaundiced eye. “My new theory is that the willy-wavers of the road now drive those Minis that look like tanks.”

“I used to have one of those,” said Jenny, unscrewing the top from her water bottle and taking a mouthful, before passing it to Sarah.

“A Mini or a willy-waver?”

Jenny refused to dignify that with a reply, tapping her manicured nails on the dashboard. Sarah grinned shamelessly and broke open a packet of Werthers originals, unwrapping one and popping it into her partner’s mouth. Jenny’s only thanks was to nip at Sarah’s forefinger.

Silence reigned for maybe five minutes as Sarah ferreted through the motley collection of CDs in the dashboard. She knew Jenny’s taste in music was fairly lamentable, but James Blunt AND Ed Sheeran? She pulled a face and instead flipped through stations on the radio. It appeared to be a straight choice between either the worst of Christmas songs or traffic updates. And yes, they knew there was a 25-mile tailback on the M4 in Wiltshire. They were in it and Sarah was heartily sick of looking at the blue sign that helpfully informed them that Leigh Delamere services was a mile away.

It was certainly one way to spend their first Christmas together. They’d talked about staying at home now they were happily ensconced in Jenny’s flat, and celebrating with M&S’s finest cuisine and a bottle of champagne. But Jenny’s well-developed sense of family guilt meant that instead they were on their way to Somerset to spend a couple of days with her sister, who lived near Bath. Sarah suspected strongly that it was also a show of defiance - here I am and here’s my same-sex partner, and if you can’t deal with that, tough. So Sarah had prepared to scrub up well and play nice …

“Absolutely bloody typical,” said Jenny crossly, glaring at the radio as if it were the smug-sounding Radio 4 announcer’s fault that the motorway had ground to a halt.

“We could play I Spy,” said Sarah helpfully. 

A beady-eyed glance from Jenny meant she took this suggestion as a no way in hell …

“How about a new game? I give you one word, and you guess who I’m describing?”

“Go on, then,” said Jenny, sounding terminally underwhelmed.

“Reptiles.”

“Abby.”

“Very good. Hairspray.”

“Becker.”

“Yep. Psycho.”

“Blade.”

“You’re on a roll …”

“It’s hardly rocket science.”

“I’m told that rocket science is actually very simple - where there’s a push, there’s a pull.”

“Yessssssss …” Jenny seemed dubious.

“Wanker.”

“There’s no need to be rude!”

“Not you! You need to guess …”

“Cutter.”

“Could be, but no.”

“Danny.”

“Spot-on.”

They lapsed into silence again. The traffic update on the radio informed them that the M4 was closed going west due to what was thought to be a chemical spillage just past Leigh Delamere services.

“I’m hungry,” said Sarah plaintively. Breakfast seemed a long time ago.

“There’s a bar of chocolate in the green bag on the back seat.”

Sarah beamed and contorted herself into an unlikely shape to hook the bag towards her and liberate the chocolate. She broke a strip off and handed it to Jenny, who consumed it at speed and demanded more. Given how restrained Jenny usually was with sweet things, it was some indication of her frame of mind.

The children in the car in front were clearly bored, sticking various appendages out of car windows. The youngest, who looked about five, had his keks down and was mooning at a disapproving elderly couple in the parallel vehicle. He turned around and gave Sarah and Jenny a flash as well.

Jenny looked momentarily shocked, then burst out laughing. Sarah poked her tongue out at the brat who grinned shamelessly, waved back and then disappeared from view.

“I love children. I just couldn’t eat a whole one,” said Sarah.

For some reason this golden oldie really tickled Jenny, who giggled for the next ten minutes every time she caught Sarah’s eye.

She only stopped when her phone rang and a litany of creative cursing in Joel Stringer’s distinctive cut-glass tones pervaded the car. No doubt it was in part due to the fact that Captain Ryan had won the rock/scissors/paper routine to see who covered Christmas and who got the New Year gig. Ryan was currently on leave, no doubt snuggled up somewhere warm with Stephen. Becker had disappeared to parts unknown with his mad archaeologist friend Morris. Considering the two of them in the same place usually spelled trouble with a capital T, Sarah was fully expecting to hear that the ARC crew had been summoned to their aid at some stage over the festive period.

“Where are you, Miss Lewis?”

“Stuck in a tailback on the M4 in Wiltshire.”

“There’s an anomaly at Leigh Delamere services. How far are you off?”

“About a mile. But nothing’s moving.”

“Blue light,” said Stringer succinctly.

“Blue light,” repeated Jenny long-sufferingly, reaching under her seat.

***

They rode the glares of those left stranded, and shot up the hard shoulder and then the slip road to the services, skidding to a halt by a road-block, manned by a very brassed-off Finn.

“Where is everyone?” asked Jenny.

“Up the service road,” said Blade succinctly, appearing from behind an articulated lorry.

“And that’s not a euphemism,” said Sarah, waggling her eyebrows. The comment was not appreciated by those around her, particularly her partner, who quelled her with what Sarah’s nan would call an old-fashioned look.

The services was deserted apart from the ARC crew. A familiar sight shimmered over the car park, which was under water. Jenny marched across to where Stringer was talking intently to Ditzy, Sarah in her slipstream.

“Captain Stringer. Perhaps you’d like to brief me on just what’s going on.”

“Yes, ma’am. Some bellend of an RAC man has driven through the anomaly after a punter.”

“Buggery bollocks,” said Jenny, a measure of how stressed she was. Only the rarely used c-word rated higher.

“Yep. And a load of prehistoric gunk has been pouring out of the sodding thing as well. Geek Boy’s doing some tests and thinks it’s just muddy water, but we’re being cautious. Hence the motorway closure and chemical spill shit. We’ve got onto one of the army bases in the area to get us an amphibious vehicle up here like a fucking hour ago.”

“What did you tell them?”

“Training op and need to know.”

“Good. Have they given you an ETA?”

“Any minute now, assuming they’ve extracted their fingers from out of their sodding arses.”

“Where’s everyone who was in the services?”

“Ferried up the access road and into a village hall where the WI are making cups of tea for everyone …”

A rumble of tyres and the growl of an engine in low gear alerted them to the arrival of a low-loader with the amphibious vehicle on the back. Two squaddies leaped down from the cab, saluted Stringer smartly, and proceeded to unload the strange-looking vehicle. Their superior wandered over, nodded to Jenny and shook hands with Stringer. 

“You want us to handle it for you, Captain Stringer?”

“No thanks, Lieutenant Grant. We promise to play nicely with it and bring it back unbroken. If you want to grab a cuppa, my lads have set up a production line behind that Eddie Stobart lorry.”

“Excellent!” Grant nodded again to Jenny and ushered his lads over to where Kermit was handing out mugs of tea.

“Right,” said Stringer. “I’ve driven one of these buggers once, so looks like it’s down to me. Ditzy, Blade, you can ride shotgun. Grab that towrope, as it looks like we’ll have to haul the wanker back through.”

“Has Connor tested the air?” asked Jenny worriedly.

“Yep. Says it’s OK, if a fuck sight hotter than here. Right, let’s get this shagging show on the sodding road …”

Sarah claimed two mugs of tea from Kermit and handed one to Jenny. It was strong enough to strip paint, but it was hot and wet, and that was all that mattered. She’d kill for a bacon sarnie - it was now 3pm and a long time since toast and marmalade for breakfast.

Abby came over, a riot of kick-arse colour in a lime-green top, hunting green mini kilt, yellow tights and purple Doc Martens.

“I thought you and Jenny were on leave.”

“We were, until we got stuck in the tailback.”

“Ah.”

“Yes.”

“You’re staying with Jenny’s sister?”

Sarah nodded.

“Does she know that you’re …?”

Sarah nodded again. “I think it’s partly why I’m being paraded in front of her so she can satisfy herself that my intentions towards Jen are honourable!”

Abby giggled. “And are they?”

Sarah grinned evilly and declined to comment.

Abby giggled again and accepted a mug of tea from Kermit, which she inhaled at speed with obvious enjoyment. “Have you met Jenny’s parents yet?”

“I think they’re next if I pass muster with her sister. They’re off skiing in the south of France over Christmas.”

“What about your parents?”

“What about them?” Sarah knew her voice had gone flat.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean … I just …”

Sarah liked Abby and took pity on her. “It’s OK. Sore point. I’ve been told never to darken their doors again.”

“Oh shit, Sarah!” Abby, one of the least tactile people on the planet, thrust her mug at Kermit and then hugged Sarah hard.

Sarah kissed the top of her head. “Thanks, chick. Sad thing is, I don’t miss them. I’ve got my nana on my side, and she’s the one that matters.”

“Families suck,” said Abby fervently.

Sarah nodded, and knew it was a topic to leave well alone.

Raised voices drifted towards them and they looked across to where Jenny was laying down the law to Danny in no uncertain terms. His smirk made Sarah’s fingers itch to slap his face hard.

Abby rolled her eyes. “Wanker.”

“Wanker,” agreed Sarah.

From the fragments of the conversation they could hear, they ascertained that Danny had assumed he’d get to play with the new toy. Stringer revving up the engine and sticking his head out of the cab clearly disabused him of that notion. A heavy army issue boot on the accelerator, and the vehicle shot through the anomaly.

Jenny delivered a parting shot to Danny and then came over to accept another mug of tea. 

“Well done on not handing him his balls on a plate,” said Sarah. “And I don’t mean Christmas balls …”

Jenny rolled her eyes. “He’d have deserved it if I had … He’s not even supposed to be on call over Christmas.”

“Like that would ever stop him.”

“I know … Oh damn, I’d better phone Tilly and tell her we’re delayed even further.”

Jenny pulled her phone out and phoned her sister. “Hi Till. We’re still stuck in the tailback on the M4 … No idea … The news said something about a chemical leak … Don’t wait for us if you want to eat. Put ours on a plate … OK, thanks … I’ll let you know when we’re on the move again. See you soon.”

Abby came over from where she’d just been talking to Connor.

“Connor seems to think the water’s draining away, which is one less thing to worry about.”

“He’s sure it is just water?” Jenny looked dubious.

“Yes. He’s done some tests and says it’s muddy water.”

“We’ll commander a couple of fire crews in the area to come and blast the car park with high-pressure hoses to clean it all up.”

“Shall I organise that, Miss Lewis?” asked Kermit.

“Yes please, Darren.” Jenny looked relieved at the offer. Her attention was diverted, though, by Connor hopping up and down and waving his arms.

“I think the anomaly’s about to close!”

“Oh fuck-a-duck,” said Jenny.

“Shall Finn and I …?”

“No,” said Jenny, cutting Kermit off briskly. “We don’t want anyone else stuck through there … Oh, bloody Danny! Curse the bloody man!”

While everyone’s attention had been diverted, Danny had dived through the anomaly. Sarah rather uncharitably thought that any large critter lurking on the other side was welcome to him as Christmas dinner. Although in the event of that happening, the paperwork would be a nightmare.

“Connor, how long have we got?”

“I’m not sure … It’s definitely getting weaker …”

“Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!” Jenny had cursed more in about an hour than in the rest of the year.

There was a muffled roar and the amphibious vehicle burst back through the anomaly, towing a battered Ford Ka behind it. Danny was perched on top of the military vehicle, waving to all and sundry like some eccentric member of royalty. Jenny cast lurid aspersions on his parentage and marched over to confront the crew. Behind them the anomaly snapped shut.

“That was a bit too fucking close for comfort,” observed Stringer, leaping down from the driver’s seat.

“Tell me about it,” said Jenny briskly. “Did you get everyone back?”

Stringer nodded. A woman and child were climbing out of the car under Ditzy’s supervision. A man in an RAC uniform jumped down from the cab of the amphibious vehicle.

“This is Brian. He went through after the mum and sprog and did well to keep them calm until we arrived. Sadly his van’s a goner.”

Jenny turned a jaundiced eye on the RAC man who looked for all the world like he’d been on an afternoon drive. He was immaculately turned out, despite his unscheduled trip into the past, and looked like his shirt had been ironed to within an inch of its life.

“Brian Goodbody, RAC patrolman of the year at your service, ma’am” said Brian formally, shaking hands with Jenny. “To be accurate, patrolman of the year in 2006, 2007 and 2009 as well.”

“Splendid!” said Jenny heartily. 

Sarah knew that that tone of voice meant Jenny needed a large gin and that she needed it ten minutes ago.

Abby said brightly: “Jenny, I can give Captain Stringer a hand to get everything sorted here. Kermit’s got several fire crews on the way to help decontaminate the site. So why don’t you and Sarah get on your way?”

“Not much point while the motorway’s still blocked,” said Jenny heavily.

“Not for much longer,” said Stringer. “Finn says the motorway police are on to it now and getting things moving. And you can go via the access road, which’ll save you the slow-moving traffic. I’ll straighten things out with the RAC over the missing van, get Brian to sign the paperwork and also have a word or two with Danny over his intervention, given he appeared just as we were on the way back through the anomaly …”

Jenny hesitated for a moment or two, and then nodded. “Thank you, Captain Stringer. You can always phone me if you need me.”

“Go and enjoy your Christmas, ma’am. You too, Miss Page.”

“Thanks,” said Sarah.

Finn grinned broadly at them as he lifted the road block off the service road for them. “Have a splendid break, Miss Lewis and Miss Page. We’ll give you the edited highlights of Captain Stringer’s conversation with Danny … OK, is your sat nav set?”

Jenny nodded.

“Good. Ignore it trying to send you back to the motorway. It’ll take you down a load of country lanes, and then onto the A4. From then on it should all be plain sailing.”

“Thanks, Robbie,” said Jenny, favouring him with a genuine smile. She had a barely concealed soft spot for him, despite the fact the lad could trip over his own shoelaces and had a repertoire of risqué jokes that he trotted out at inopportune moments.

Sarah hid a grin. She suspected Stringer’s word or two with Danny would be unrepeatable, as she knew the captain had little time for the ex-cop’s showboating. Him and half the ARC …

Jenny texted her sister rapidly and then put the car into gear. “You fit?”

“I’m fit.”

“Good. I’ve told Tilly to have double gins waiting for us. We’ve bloody earned them!”


End file.
